


Pacify Her

by Fudgyokra



Category: Danny Phantom, Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Awkward Sexual Situations, College, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Partying, Unabashed Melanie Martinez Reference, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8712514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: But was he yours if he wanted me so bad?





	

_But was he yours if he wanted me so bad?_

xx

It was 2 a.m. and all he could do was stare at himself in the mirror. He was in someone else’s bathroom, music thumping right outside the wooden barrier where the party was a lot more than full-blown. By the time he’d excused himself from the ruckus he had left behind ten people in a circle passing around a bong and two blackout drunks draped more on each other than on the couch they occupied.

Though Dipper wasn’t the party type to begin with, he figured the college experience required the attendance of at least one frat party and boy did he regret falling for that logic. It was not all Hollywood made it out to be, really. It was mostly drunken groping (which Hollywood got right), but with a lot more vomiting, fighting, and dubious consent than he had anticipated. After dragging some disgusting creep off of Pacifica Northwest, in fact, Dipper had decided he’d had enough frat parties for one lifetime.

And so he was here, staring at his reflection while his eardrums and feet competed to see who could ache the most from the night’s festivities. He didn’t even dance, rather he was forced to stand because every surface that would’ve offered him a seat was occupied by slobbering, moaning hookups that looked in no condition even close to sobriety. Call him gracious or passive, but he decided not to bother any of them in his pursuit of a seat.

The toilet was what he was going for, but when he slid into the restroom and closed the door behind him he could smell the bile-covered receptacle before he could even see it and decided he wasn’t nearly that desperate. He found himself sitting in the bathtub, instead.

His desperate search for sanctuary didn’t result in long-lasting relief, however, because approximately five minutes after he got comfortable and dragged the shower curtain closed the bathroom door flew open with a crash, letting in full-volume music and, louder than that, an unholy combination of flirty words and sloppy smacking noises.

Dipper resisted the urge to groan.

“Gimme five minutes, Paulina,” he heard a man’s voice say.

He had to withhold yet another groan. _Not him_ , he thought. _Anyone but him_.

Paulina giggled and said with slurred words, “You’d better not be any longer, Danny.” After that Dipper heard the door close and the sound of a zipper being undone.

He held his breath and prayed he wouldn’t be caught, especially not by a likely-not-sober Danny Fenton, the worst ex-boyfriend Dipper could possibly imagine running into because A) their nasty breakup was based entirely on rumors and distrust, and B) he still wanted him back. Badly. He wanted the chance to explain why Wendy had kissed him and, what’s more, that he did _not_ kiss her back. But, of course, Danny wasn’t likely to listen to his excuses, no matter their validity.

Well, at least Dipper could say he learned _something_ in college; listening to an ex pissing into a vomit-covered toilet at a frat party was not among the most attractive things he could imagine having to endure. And so he sat, sneakers pressed against the edge of the tub, knees against his chest, waiting for the other man to finish his business and leave him be in his bathroom haven. It took a weirdly long time for him to hear the sound of a zipper being pulled up and the tap water being turned on, but he was relieved nonetheless. At least Danny was coherent enough to remember to wash his hands.

“Hey,” the other said all of the sudden, causing Dipper’s heart to hammer in his chest. _Oh, shit._ “All right, mouth-breather, what’s the deal with your choice for a hideout?” Danny pulled back the curtain and blinked once, twice, three times before peering down at him looking mildly pathetic in his scrunched-up state.

Slowly, Dipper rose. He cleared his throat. “Um, hey.”

“Um, hey,” Danny echoed, seeming equally surprised. “My bad, I thought you were in here doing drugs.”

Dipper laughed once, awkwardly. “Ha! Me? No way.”

“No, no, not _you_. But.” Danny licked his lips and scratched his head with his free hand. “I thought you were _someone_ doing drugs. Y’know.” He waved his hand in a vague gesture, and Dipper nodded to signal that he understood.

“Right. Well, no, I’m not. Actually I just came in here to sit down.” It sounded stupid now that he’d said it aloud, but Danny bobbed his head like he understood.

“Been a while since we’ve talked, dude,” Danny said, giving him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Dipper wanted to throw up. “Yeah… A while. Like, two months?” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying hard not to meet those baby blues. He would rather die than do that. “Listen, sorry about all that drama. I just want you to know that I wasn’t lying. I’m sure you still don’t believe me, but I mean it.”

Danny made a face like he was trying to solve an equation. “Oh, that? No, uh, Wendy told me you were telling the truth.” Even though he was the sober one, Dipper took a long time to process that—so long, in fact, that Danny had already begun talking again before he could think of a proper response. “I never told you that. I thought you hated me for assuming.”

“No!” Dipper replied, perhaps more emphatically than he would have liked. “I thought _you_ … Well, that’s all in the past now, right?” He laughed the flattest laugh he’d ever heard himself make and tried to play it off with a convincing grin. “We just weren’t meant to be, and all that.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, pushing the shower curtain back and stepping into the tub.

Dipper blinked owlishly, glanced to the side, and then finally made himself meet Danny’s eyes. He wished he hadn’t, because they were studying him intently in their hazy state, dark brows furrowing thoughtfully above them.

“I don’t know. I think we could’ve made it,” Danny said, putting one palm flat on the wall beside Dipper’s head and causing a dozen metaphorical alarm bells to go off.

“Oh, no, you and Paulina are great to—”

Danny winced, but that hitch in his thoughts didn’t stop him from resting his other hand on Dipper’s hip, thumb rubbing circles on his hip bones like they’d never been apart. “She’s great and all, but, ah…” He looked mildly agonized, but Dipper held his own by looking positively scandalized.

“You can’t do this to her,” he said, as much as he would really, _really_ like to—

“She’s doing it to me,” Danny said in a rush, looking at him as though to gauge his reaction to this bit of knowledge. “She’s been cheating on me with Dash for I don’t even know how long.”

Dipper couldn’t seem to make his mouth do anything but open, close, and open again, giving him the appearance of a startled, flushed fish. A startled, flushed fish being pressed against a tub wall by an ex-boyfriend in some stranger’s house.

This was not ideal, but it was more exciting than the actual party had been thus far. _But no_ , he told himself, putting a hand on Danny’s chest. “Why don’t you break up with her?”

“Because she knows about you,” Danny said, smiling like it was a joke. Dipper was taken aback. “That’s not, like, terrible or anything, but she gets jealous. She would probably try to kick your ass if I dumped her because she’d assume it was your fault.”

“My fault…” Dipper mouthed, dropping his hand from the other man’s chest. “You mean she thinks you’d leave her for me?”

Danny took the gesture as an opportunity to settle both of his hands on Dipper’s hips and step closer, offering a hum as the only indication he’d heard the question at all. This didn’t feel right, but it felt more right than listening to him drunkenly making out with Paulina while Dipper sat in a tub. With more and more persuasion on behalf of Danny’s hands, however, it became right enough to make sense for the time being, something Dipper would definitely regret later when he had full ownership of his brain again.

“I’d leave her for you,” Danny whispered against his neck, something he barely even registered as an answer to a question he’d nearly forgotten he had asked. “But I can’t do it right now.”

Dipper mentally asked himself if he was going to fall for that excuse. Despite his stubbornness, he could feel it in the way his chest ached that he would. He’d fall for it again and again if he wasn’t careful. Something about those blue eyes.

The illusion of privacy was destroyed by an obnoxiously loud pounding at the door, causing Danny to yank his hands away and step out of the tub. “Sorry,” he said to the door, rolling his shoulders like he was getting up from a nap instead of stepping away from what was very nearly a handjob in someone else’s bathtub.

“Hurry up, Danny!” Paulina whined from the hall. “I wanna dance!”

“I know, baby.”

Dipper’s stomach twisted itself into a jealous, guilty knot.

“You said five minutes,” she persisted, beginning to fiddle with the handle.

“I know, baby,” he repeated, acquiescing to her whining by allowing her in.

The moment she saw Dipper, her eyes narrowed. For his part, he managed to look decently put together and not (god forbid) hard in his jeans two feet away from her boyfriend. Paulina said nothing and instead pressed up against Danny like she owned him. “You know I don’t like to be kept waiting,” she said to him, sweetly suggestive, dripping with poisonous purpose. “If you’re bad you won’t get that present I promised you tonight.” She kissed him, hard and deliberate, and Dipper pretended not to be bitter about it.

“We were just talking for a minute,” Danny said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You know I wouldn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Good,” Paulina replied, running a hand down his backside and shooting a nasty glare at Dipper. “Come on, honey, I told you I want to dance.”

With that she left, Danny in tow like a dog on a leash. A beautiful, Hispanic leash.

Dipper decided seething wasn’t worth it and pushed his way out of the bathroom, through the crowd, and out the front door. He couldn’t tell whether he was angrier at Paulina or at himself for falling for the mess that had just unfolded, but he eventually settled his inner turmoil with the halfway-satisfied thought that Danny didn’t love her, anyway, and he’d told him so.

Though he never had been the partying type, he thought maybe it was a stroke of good luck that he’d gone after all. Dark clouds had a funny way of showing their silver linings.


End file.
